


What Friends Do

by apidologist



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Autistic Character, Blow Jobs, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fantasizing, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Interconnectedness, M/M, Masturbation, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10071839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apidologist/pseuds/apidologist
Summary: A series of fragments detailing Dirk and Todd's return to normalcy - except, for Dirk and Todd, that never existed, so things develop in ways that are unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome.





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vernets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vernets/gifts).



The universe was always against him. Whenever its flashes of clarity led Dirk Gently to a place where he felt happy, or safe, or useful, or _wanted_ , he knew it would not last long. When he had followed its guidance to Seattle, to the Patrick Spring case, to Todd Brotzman’s apartment, to a whole new life with people who made him feel all four of those things, he knew, in the back of his mind, that he should not take those feelings for granted, not even for one moment.

But in that one hour at the diner, laughing with Todd and Farah, he forgot. And the universe wouldn’t be having that.

\---

Todd had no conception of what they had done to Dirk, or what they were after. Out of the Blackwing subjects Todd had encountered, Dirk seemed like the least dangerous and the least able to be of any assistance to the CIA, even on the rare occasions when he was able to (sort of) explain his method of working, his way of receiving guidance.

During those months that Dirk was missing (kidnapped? imprisoned?), Todd thought back to those things he should have noticed, would have noticed if there had been more time and less crazy shit going on. If there had been a few days to reflect, and talk that week’s events over with Dirk, and learn where he came from and how he ended up doing...whatever it is he does. He thought back to Dirk’s eyes averting in the café when he picked up that napkin and said, “Let’s do an experiment.” He thought of Dirk’s habitual lying, not out of selfishness, but because he couldn’t connect the fragments which his brain seemed to toss up in the air all at once. He thought of the expression which week-in-the-past Dirk made when he was told that Todd was his friend - no, his _best_ friend. It wasn’t happiness; it was surprise. Disbelief.

Whatever they did to him, Todd grew more and more amazed that Dirk was full of such positive energy, with such a naive and trusting nature - even if it was a façade. Even if it was a coping mechanism for the past horrors he had endured.

\---

The universe, Dirk was pleased to learn, seemed as interested in reuniting him with Todd as he was. At first, he thought his dreams couldn’t possibly be influenced by the universe, because they were so perfect. He dreamt of Farah, and Amanda, and his best friend, and all together they would piece together coincidences and take care of kittens and get the bad guys and laugh and drink milkshakes. Sometimes he would bring Todd a cup of coffee and Todd would pull a face and then keep drinking it anyway. Sometimes the Rowdy 3 were there, which ruined the atmosphere of perfectness just a little, but for the most part it was all he could ever hope for. In each dream he had, he and one of his friends found a new clue. After a month in the facility, he had seven clues. When he could fit them together, he would get back home. Unfortunately, none of them fit together in a way that made any sense whatsoever to Dirk.

He was still wearing the Mexican Funeral t-shirt. When Dirk first awakened in that cold, empty room, he wore a hospital gown for the second time in 24 hours. But they began to attach probes to him, and question him, and when he was sure they wouldn’t kill him, he used his information to barter. They laughed at him when he asked for the shirt. He smiled back, because he knew they wouldn’t be able to use any information he gave. It was always like that. The messages were for him alone.

When he told them he would find his friends again (or, wait, that his friends would find him? It was all a bit confusing at that point), they told him that was impossible. They told him he never had any friends, and his mind was playing tricks again, and for a moment, Dirk almost believed them. It was unlikely enough that anyone would even want to be his assistant for the duration of the Patrick Spring case. Actually, the case itself seemed unlikely enough, even after the thing with Thor. How was he to know which memories to trust when no one could confirm them? It was only a moment of panic. Dirk buried his nose in his black t-shirt and breathed in, and it was real enough.

\---

Of all the things Todd could have said when they met again, he went with “You’re still wearing my shirt.”

Dirk nodded, eyes wide and wild, face paler and thinner than it had been. “It doesn’t smell like you anymore, though.”

Todd walked up to him, so close that their toes were almost touching. He drew himself up to his full height and stuck out his chin. His eyebrows knitted together, Dirk noted, in that confusing way where he couldn’t quite tell if he was happy or sad or angry or one of the other ones. Then Todd hugged him.

It was like wearing the shirt, but heavy, and amplified, and alive. His smell was so much more than Dirk was used to, and he inhaled until his ribs hurt and his vision swam.

“C’mon. C’mon, Dirk.” Todd shook him slightly. The blood rushed in his ears. “We gotta get you back home.”

\---

 _Home_. Sort of funny, Dirk thought, as he drifted in and out of sleep, how home can mean a place where you didn’t grow up or spend more than a couple weeks of your life. Home can be a place where none of your family live, and it can be a place you never chose to be in. Perhaps, he thought, home isn’t a place.

He never had a home before, in that sense, but when Todd said it, he imagined the lumpy sofa he never slept on, the messy kitchen he only cooked in once, the well-organised records, the bed which was too low to hide beneath. Sparseness, loneliness, comfort.

“Do I get to sleep on the sofa?!” Dirk asked, sitting bolt upright.

Todd jumped at the sudden movement, but replied, “Yeah, Dirk. Sure. I guess.” He turned to ask what was so special about the sofa, but Dirk was already back asleep and snoring softly.

\---

Dirk awakened at dawn, unused to the sun pulling him slowly out of sleep rather than the fluorescent tubes of the facility flickering on and gathering strength. He squinted in the dim light and found a glass of water on the side table, and his clothes - new ones, more gathered from his apartment - folded beside it. After draining the glass, Dirk walked across the apartment to Todd’s bed, hands hovering around his shoulder, his back, his hair, not knowing how to wake him without startling him. He gave up and sat on the edge of the bed with his hands between his knees.

“Christ--Dirk? Hey, it’s - it’s barely morning, are you okay?”

“Fine, yes. Excellent, Todd! Really...good!”

Even half-asleep, Todd heard the hollow heaviness in his voice. “You looked exhausted last night, Dirk. Can you try to get any more rest? Do you need anything?”

Twisting the corner of Todd’s quilt, Dirk shook his head.

Todd looked at him for a long moment. “If you get in with me, will you try to sleep some more?”

Dirk stared just to the right of Todd’s head and nodded more than was necessary. He stood, and Todd pushed the covers back, pressing back against the wall so Dirk could take as much space as he needed. “Thank you, Todd.” He curled up and rubbed his face against the pillow like a cat. “Why did you hug me earlier, at the…?”

Todd fidgeted with rearranging the blankets over the both of them. “Um, I thought you just said you’d try to sleep.”

“I _will_ , but you have to tell me first.”

“It was…” Todd thought of the contact that Dirk had initiated with him before, which was mostly varying degrees of awkward shoulder touching, and realized he might not have liked it. He remembered how he sort of froze and spaced out without reciprocating. “Look, I should have asked you. I’m sorry if it surprised you. I was really - we were all worried about you, Dirk.”

“Todd. I won’t be able to sleep until you tell me why.”

Todd rolled his eyes at Dirk’s stubbornness, wondering why the universe couldn’t tell him and save Todd the trouble of finding his words.

“I was...relieved that you were okay? And, alive, mostly. And I kind of missed you, and wanted to make sure you knew that I’m still your friend.”

Dirk reached out to touch his shoulder, but didn’t say anything in response.

“So…” Todd grew even more uncertain. “I hope that didn’t...make you uncomfortable.”

“Can I do it?” Dirk whispered. Todd had no idea that Dirk knew how to whisper. More than that, he had never heard him speak without confidence, even when it was more like blind optimism.

“Hug me?”

“Yes.”

“Sure.” Todd felt the hand on his shoulder move gingerly to his back, his other hand jabbed against his ribs, and their knees knocked painfully.

“Owww! Is this usually difficult to work out, or is it more due to us being horizontal?”

Todd huffed a laugh. “You’ve really never--” He stopped himself. Would that be such a surprise? Not compared with anything else Dirk has going on. “Here. Get on your back. Relax your arms. Now I’ll put my head here,” Todd laid on Dirk’s shoulder and placed a hand on his waist, “and you can put both your arms back around me.”

Dirk squeezed him experimentally.

“That’s...nice, Dirk.”

“When am I supposed to let go?”

“Well, it’s…” Todd wasn’t sure how to explain how he knew when to stop hugging someone. You just kind of let go when you both feel like it’s gone on long enough? But if Dirk was asking, that probably wasn’t something he would naturally detect. “You can do it as long as you want. In this particular situation. Usually, it’s just a few seconds, so if it lasts longer, it’s like cuddling. Which, generally, is less of a friend thing.”

Dirk relaxed his hold just a little. “Wait, people only cuddle if they _aren’t_ friends?”

“I meant it’s mostly a romantic thing.”

“So does ‘in this particular situation’ mean that this is a friend situation in which hugging or cuddling for any amount of time is acceptable, or that this is a romantic situation, or that it’s a one-time...situation?”

“Dirk, are you - you’re messing with me now, aren’t you. Okay. You said you’d go to sleep after I answered your question.” Todd interrupted himself with a huge (probably fake) yawn, which Dirk had no choice but to echo.

“That’s not fair!”

“C’mon. We’ll have time to talk in the morning. I haven’t forgotten how much you like to talk.”

“Of course I like talking to you, Todd!” said Dirk, missing his teasing tone.

Todd was glad that Dirk fell asleep shortly after, as it gave him time to run through what the hell that conversation was even about. Did he mind that he was currently sharing a bed with and cuddle-hugging his friend he hadn’t seen in months and who was probably going through some shit even if he seemed almost exactly the same and just as exasperating as before? No. Was this a ‘romantic situation’? No. Was this a ‘one-time situation’? He sort of hoped not. Well, if he hoped not, did he _like_ Dirk? He wasn’t sure. Dirk was different from anyone he’d ever known. He was drawn to him, absolutely. So, did Dirk-- nah, Todd thought. It was far too early for this.


	2. The Spaghetti Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to escalate, and the boundaries of friendship get more and more flexible.

“Can friends say they love each other?”

Todd’s coffee sloshed over the side of his cup as he brought it to his mouth. He thought that after a month of living and working in proximity to Dirk, he might actually start to get used to him. Getting used to Dirk Gently was apparently either a very long-term project, or a universal impossibility. He looked glumly down at his stained shirt. 

“Dirk…” As usual when asked such a forward question about friendship, which (when not on a case) tended to be one of Dirk’s main lines of inquiry, Todd faltered. His experience with being a good friend, a  _ best  _ friend, was limited to Dirk since college - before that, really. Giving him an answer sometimes felt like a lie, but if he became annoyed or flustered by Dirk’s questioning, he felt even guiltier, since Dirk was only trying to fill the gaps in his knowledge, the causes of which Todd had become more and more aware of in the past weeks. If they were both so insecure, Todd thought, shouldn’t they try to maintain some boundaries? A vision of Dirk climbing through his window floated up through Todd’s mind. Whatever, there were never a lot of those anyway.

He got up and patted his shirt with a paper towel. “Yeah, you can. More of a close friends thing than a people-you’ve-just-met-and-decided-they’re-your-friend thing, though, because that’s a little bit intimidating.”

Dirk’s head tilted almost completely to one shoulder as he processed that information. Then he beamed, exclaimed, “I love you, Todd!” and zipped out of the apartment before he could receive a reply.

This was going to escalate, wasn’t it? Todd thought, sipping the rest of his coffee.

Five minutes later, he received a text. “I love you, Todd!” Okay, it was already out of hand.

\---

Later that week, Todd was in the passenger seat of Farah’s black SUV when his phone buzzed. Todd snatched it up from the compartment beside him, but Farah had already looked down and seen the text: “I love you, Todd!” Todd groaned, and unlocked his phone to find over twenty identical texts.

“Look, it’s not - we’re not exactly - um, basically, what happened was--”

“Dirk isn’t the most subtle guy, so I think if you were, um, romantically involved, we’d know about it by now.  _ Everyone  _ would. He wouldn’t be able to stop talking about it.” She grew serious. “Which could potentially be a huge liability in this line of work, so I’ll have to bring that up with him, just, y’know, as a preventative step--”

“We’re not even together ye--” Todd’s face twisted and he changed what would’ve been ‘yet’ into an extremely unconvincing ‘y’know,’ at which Farah merely raised a skeptical eyebrow before returning her focus to the road ahead.

After a moment’s silence, Farah spoke again. “I couldn’t help but notice...you’re not replying.”

“Well, I said it was okay to tell your friends you loved them, and now I guess he thinks he should tell me every time he remembers it. Which is...most minutes of the day. If I replied all the time I wouldn’t have time for anything else.”

“Todd...you’re going to be careful with him, right?”

He frowned, looking out of the tinted window. “I’m really trying, Farah. It’s not easy to know what the right thing is, with him.” 

“I know you didn’t completely choose to be involved with him, what with the whole...universe...thing.”

“No, I did. That’s the thing. I did. I always ran after him. I’m still doing it, except now, it’s always because I want to, and not only because I think he’ll get himself killed if I don’t.”

Farah nodded, thinking it over. “Then however you’re together, you’ll be fine. I mean - you’re both stupidly reckless, and just thinking about your highly questionable methodology is really, um, disturbing for me. So, I should say, with some good backup, and more planning, there's a greater likelihood that you’ll be fine.”

Todd tried not to laugh, noting how she shifted to discussing their professional relationship. “Lucky we have someone to save our asses, then.”

Farah grinned. Todd looked back down to his phone, took a deep breath, and typed, “Love you too, Dirk.”

\---

It was, to say the least, disconcerting to find Dirk standing less than two feet away from him when Todd opened the door to his apartment. He jumped, nearly smacking his head back against the door frame before being warmly embraced in a blur of light and color. “What the hell,” he managed half-heartedly. He patted Dirk’s back with the arm that wasn’t trapped at his side, and kicked the door shut.

“Love you,” said Dirk, somewhat muffled by Todd’s flannel shirt. It was five, ten, twenty seconds before Dirk stopped bouncing on his toes and relaxed with a low hum. His hands stopped moving frantically around Todd’s arms, shoulders, back, and stopped on his waist and the back of his neck. And just when Todd thought he was going to break away, he felt Dirk’s mouth, warm and smiling, touch below his jaw in an unmistakable kiss.

Todd’s stomach twisted. “Dirk, um.” The ‘um’ might’ve come out a little more like a groan than intended, but it was enough to get Dirk’s attention.

“Yes?” He pulled back from Todd enough to see his expression, forehead wrinkled, mouth slackened, and cheeks far pinker than he was used to seeing them. “Oh! Oh shit.” He jumped away so that there was at least an arm’s length between them, and tried to think of what to say, and scanned over Todd’s face to try to figure out what he was going to do. He touched his lips without thinking, and Todd’s speechless gaze fell to the floor.

“To-odd,” he said, drawing his name into two syllables, “Do friends...sometimes...kiss each other?”

Todd’s neck was prickling where Dirk’s lips had pressed. The humidity from his breath evaporated from Todd’s skin into the air, and a quick chill ran through him.

When Dirk estimated that such a length of silence was probably not in any way an emphatic ‘yes,’ he frowned down at his hands and began fidgeting again. “Oh. Sorry, Todd.” He sighed. “I should’ve asked before.”

“Just a minute, okay? Just - wait a minute.” He dropped his keys on the table and went into the bathroom, closing but not locking the door.  _ What. The hell. _

_ Did _ friends kiss each other? Todd could only answer these kinds of questions up to a certain point - and, more to the point, could only answer them with his own interests in mind. Which were currently very uncertain. And confusing.

Todd turned on the sink, as cold as he could, and rinsed his hands, splashed his face, and let the water drip down his neck under his shirt collar. He felt a drop of water roll from his temple to his jaw, and just over the place where Dirk had kissed him. His reflection in the mirror was a lot more telling than Todd really wanted it to be right now, and he dunked his head under the faucet, trying to clear his head, or maybe drown himself, whichever eliminated the problem.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go?”

Todd scrubbed his face and hair with a towel and opened the door. “Yeah, stay. I have to tell you something.” He opened the fridge, fought with himself against taking a can of beer to aid him with this conversation he’d decided it was time to have, and poured himself a glass of water. Dirk sat expectantly on the sofa, bouncing his leg.

“I can’t keep giving you advice about friend stuff, Dirk.”

His eyes widened. “Wh-why? Do you mean you don’t  _ want  _ to?”

“I mean I can’t. You think I can answer you every time you ask what friends do or don’t do! Like, friends probably don’t usually work in holistic detective agencies together, Dirk! And like, you asked me that time if friends can make each other spaghetti. Seriously? Honestly? Of course it’s nice when friends make each other food, but that doesn’t mean I want you to ever,  _ ever  _ attempt it again.”

“Well, that’s probably fair.” The spaghetti incident was recent enough to give both of them a moment’s reflection.

“Dirk, I haven’t had a lot of friends. I’ve had friends I’ve kissed, and I’ve had friends I wouldn’t have kissed in a million years. I can’t tell you the rule for whether or not to go for it. Actually, no, I can tell you one thing, because I’ve fucked things up so many times with so many friends. Or. Ex-friends.”

Dirk looked worried by that term, as if he never thought friendship, once made, could be exed. Cancelled. Ruined. “What?”

“Go for it if you each know what the other wants.”

“Well, I don’t even know what I want.”

Todd rolled his eyes, but in a way which was somehow sympathetic. “Me neither.”


	3. Seahorses and Apricots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk makes a proposition, Todd makes a choice, and the universe winks conspiratorially.

Upon being awakened by a knock at the door (at three in the morning, he noted, checking his phone), Todd sat up with a grunt, flicked the switch of his bedside lamp, and rubbed his eyes. The knocking became more persistent, and he kicked the covers off of his legs. Wait. Todd squinted back at the too-bright phone screen, where a new message from a few hours ago read, “Goodnight, Todd. I love you!” He may have stopped asking Todd for help compiling his mental guide to being a perfect friend, but at least that aspect of things hadn’t changed.

“What is it, Dirk?” he asked through the door.

“Let me in, silly!”

He opened the door to find Dirk in a patterned pajama set he hadn’t seen before, a navy blue one with yellow seahorses.

“You may be surprised to hear that I was sleeping, actually.”

“No,” said Dirk, “that’s not very surprising at all. It’s three in the morning, Todd!” He shook his head and tutted. “And,” he said as an afterthought, brightening, “we just solved a fantastic case!”

“I’m definitely aware of both of those things.”

Dirk grinned, but his smile wavered somewhat when he asked, “D’you mind if I stay here tonight?”

“Why, is there anything wrong with your apartment?”

“No - well - just me. I couldn’t sleep. I felt like I was supposed to be somewhere else.”

“Are you trying to say that the universe told you to come up here and wake me up?”

He looked shiftier than usual. “Todd, can I stay?”

Todd knew that the fastest way for him to get back to sleep would be for him to agree. He gestured vaguely towards the couch, and walked back towards his bed, but Dirk flew past him and leapt onto the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin before Todd had the chance to say anything at all.

“Sure. Yeah. You can stay.” He climbed back into bed and switched off the lamp, reminding himself that if he kept letting Dirk into his apartment, he was going to have to deal with the consequences, like losing sleep and being dragged into ridiculously improbable situations.

Dirk wrapped an arm around Todd’s waist, pulling him tightly to his chest. He was too close, too warm, too much of everything. Todd didn’t have the energy to complain.

“Todd, is this working?”

His eyes opened wearily. “Is what working?”

“I think you should be the, what’s it called? The ‘big spoon’?”

“That’s...generous of you.”

They flipped and Todd remembered how difficult it was to spoon someone taller than himself. If he curled around Dirk’s hips, he ended up completely under the covers, and if he kept his head on the pillow behind Dirk’s, he looked like a human cape. Dirk loved it. He wiggled happily back against him to be squeezed tighter. Todd was gradually feeling more and more awake, his own body to blame as much as Dirk was.

“Dirk,” he tried, “why are you here?” Hearing Dirk’s long intake of breath, he added, “Not on Earth, Dirk. In my bed, specifically.” 

“Oh,” said Dirk, “right. Well. I wanted to talk to you, because I couldn’t sleep, and I was thinking about the thing you said the other week.”

“Which thing?”

“About knowing what we want. And I’ve decided that you’re definitely wrong.”

Of course he had. “What, so you don’t think talking about where you want a friendship, or whatever...relationship, to go, is a good idea?”

“That’s not what I said. But in my experience, I often don’t know things until I’ve sort of...arrived at the conclusion. I can’t come to the conclusion until all the pieces are there. So I can’t know what the end of this is - how it works out, whether it works out, what part we’re going to play in each other’s lives and for how long. I’m not getting any clues, either.”

Todd propped himself up on an elbow so that he could just make out Dirk’s profile in the glow from the streetlight outside his window.

“And also, sometimes, I don’t think you realise how much I like you.”

Todd thought of how their just-completed case was nearly jeopardized because he didn’t receive an important text from Farah, because his phone was out of memory, because of the thousand ‘I love you’ texts in his inbox. “Okay, Dirk. That’s ridiculous, but okay.”

“My point is, it’s like the trap rooms. Until you solve the one you’re in, you don’t know what’s through the next door. Or there’s probably some better analogy, because I’m not in danger of dying from not kissing you. Though lately it’s been feeling like that,” he mused, unabashed.

How did Dirk manage to make so much sense while at the same time sounding like he didn’t have a clue what he was talking about? How did he convince him of the wildest things with so little effort on his part? Not that this was anywhere near to  _ the  _ wildest thing that had come out of Dirk Gently’s mouth so far.

There was a high probability that it wouldn’t be so bad. Alright, odds were extremely in favor of Todd enjoying it immensely. But that’s what worried him. With Dirk being so demonstrative, and him being, at best, guardedly tolerant of Dirk’s unlimited affections, he was afraid that once he allowed himself to reciprocate...well, let’s just say that he knew Dirk had had enough taken from him over the years - most of a childhood, his sense of self, his sense of control - and Todd didn’t trust himself to give as much as he took. Everything was so different with him, Todd didn’t know where to begin.

Dirk turned and met his eyes. “Doesn’t that make sense, though? You’re the one with more experience. To me, it’s like...if you kissed me, and liked it, then what’s the problem? We’d be friends, and partners in the agency - well, not ‘partners’ per sé, it’ll be a  _ quite  _ a few promotions before that - and we’d kiss, which is probably really nice. And if either of us didn’t like it, it wouldn’t have anything to do with us being friends, or eventual partners in holistic detection.”

He made it sound so uncomplex. Maybe, for him, it was. It was just a kiss, and not everything else that a kiss might imply or prefigure. To be perfectly honest, Todd was beginning to grow tired of working it out. He reached up and swept a piece of hair back from Dirk’s forehead. It was so soft, freshly washed and slightly mussed from having tried to sleep directly after his shower, and Dirk very clearly had a positive reaction to his hair being petted, his eyes falling shut and mouth falling open with a sigh. 

“Todd, that’s not fair. I’m pretty certain I was making a good point just then!”

“You were. Actually, I don’t know if you’re the one who’s convincing, or I’m the one who’s easy to persuade. Dirk...are you sure? Right now?”

Dirk shifted onto his back to face Todd more fully. “Right now is always the best time to make a decision. Why wait when you know what you feel like doing right now?”

Todd leaned even closer, and discovered that Dirk, with his heart beating audibly and breath catching as it passed his lips, wasn’t as immune to nerves as he obviously wished to seem. “Why wait, then,” he echoed, and pressed his mouth to Dirk’s.

The kiss was brief, and very attentively reigned in on both sides, showing an impressive level of restraint considering how they felt about the situation. That is, until Dirk let out a frustrated noise at the loss of contact, and Todd huffed a relieved laugh. 

After slowly running his tongue over his bottom lip, Dirk began, “See? I told you it would be alright. I don’t know why you have to be so stubborn, Todd,” upon which Todd had no choice but to kiss him again, with a little more strength and finesse than before.

When they broke apart this time, Dirk was breathing heavily, his hair awry and lips flushed from his efforts in matching Todd’s technique.

“And that? Was that just ‘alright’?”

“Uhhh,” said Dirk. “ _ Mm _ . Yes. Better. Very good!”

Todd raised a mildly offended eyebrow. “‘Very good’?! I didn’t know your standards were so high.”

“You’ll just have to try harder, I suppose.” 

If Dirk was trying to be coy, Todd thought, it wasn’t very convincing, what with him panting and looking thoroughly ravished after only two kisses. “You’ll tell me if you don’t like something, right, Dirk?”

He made an impatient noise. “Of course, yes,  _ fine _ , can we…?”

Todd leaned close again, watching Dirk somehow relax further down against his pillow. He took Dirk’s top lip between his teeth, sucked, pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, licked his lower lip, pulled away…

And Dirk grabbed Todd’s face in his hands, messily, enthusiastically returning the favor. Todd slipped his tongue between Dirk’s lips and received a sweet, needy sound; Dirk’s hands, ever at a loss for where to place themselves, traced Todd’s arms, his shoulders, and dared explore his neck, his chest, waist, and the hip he could reach, feeling his muscles shift as he pressed their bodies closer together.

Their tongues met; Todd briefly had the sensation of being a teenager again, feeling very out of practice, and noticed that Dirk, for all his impressive reciprocation, didn’t exactly seem like he’d done much of this before. But their second wave of nerves passed, and they quickly found how they fit together - almost as if the universe realized it didn’t mind after all.

Todd broke away for breath; once Dirk caught his, he began to complain, but his disappointment didn’t last long as Todd quickly ducked his head to press soft kisses to his neck. Before, while Dirk’s mouth was occupied, he could only make noises to show his appreciation, but now that it was not, he could say things like, “Oh, that’s  _ fantastic _ ,” or “You’re  _ so  _ talented,” or “Do that again, it was  _ lovely _ ,” when he wasn’t erupting into giggles from Todd finding a particularly ticklish spot here and there. Todd marveled that he could be so in earnest, so un-self-conscious, when doing something so new to him.

He sucked a small bruise onto Dirk’s collarbone, which stopped him from verbalizing, if not vocalizing. Biting slightly harder, Todd listened to the moans which were elicited, accompanied by a breathy noise which sounded more or less like his name. Finally, he raised his head and sucked the skin below Dirk’s jaw, the same place he had felt Dirk’s mouth mark his skin, and thought he might as well get his own back, teasing out a bruise with his teeth until Dirk was thoroughly flustered.

Todd kissed Dirk’s cheek, his temple, his nose, and asked, “Is that okay? How are you feeling?”

“ _ Oh _ , excellent, Todd.  _ Perfect _ .” He yawned. “Exhausted, actually.” Todd nodded against his shoulder with an ‘mph’ of agreement. “Have I mentioned that I love you?”

“Dirk, you said that at least eight times since you came in.”

“Well,” he sniffed affectedly, “I do.”

Todd kissed him once more, feeling Dirk’s uncontrollable smile against his lips. He smoothed the lapels of Dirk’s ridiculous pajamas before resting his head upon his chest, in the same position they were in the night of Dirk’s return.  _ Jesus, seahorses _ , Todd thought fondly, beginning to drift off,  _ at least it’s better than the peach emoji one. Or whatever it is. _

“Apricots,” Dirk mumbled drowsily.


	4. Coffee Machines and Tea Cupboards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Todd didn't realize he was going to have to deal with the repercussions of this added dynamic to his friendship with Dirk so soon. Serious repercussions, mind: his sister and Farah are both highly amused, for one thing. Also, Dirk gets some of his tea stolen, which isn't so much a repercussion as a side-effect of having a very strange set of acquaintances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so y'all're aware, I really do not know where this is going, my headcanons are only very slowly even beginning to think about coalescing. Here's a weird scene with the Main Four, featuring Dirk's Hickey.

Todd jolted out of bed to the smell of something burning and began to panic, until he realized that he was actually very cold, most likely due to the brisk morning breeze that was coming in through his mysteriously open window.

“Shit. Shit!!” cried a voice in his kitchen.

Oh.  _ Right _ .

Todd rushed into the kitchen, where Dirk was sucking his burnt fingertip and looking bemusedly at Todd’s coffee machine, which was somehow emitting a cloud of dark smoke. It beeped ominously. 

“Ah! Todd! Look, your coffee’s done!” Dirk lifted up the pot, which was filled with something that looked reasonably similar to coffee but smelled a lot like burnt rubber.

“Oh...wow, Dirk, that’s--” Todd was forced to cut off his attempted compliment when a coughing fit interrupted him. He unsubtly put his hand over his nose and mouth. “That’s definitely something, thanks.”

Dirk grinned, poured the whatever-it-was into a mug, and pressed it into Todd’s hands. It didn’t take him long to wake up enough to realize that what he was sipping was not in any way meant for human imbibement. Around the same time he realized that, he remembered why Dirk was there in the first place. He looked up from the unnaturally oily film that was beginning to form over the surface of the liquid to find Dirk standing very close, looking sheepish.

“Er...Todd, I just...I think it’s best to make sure, as my dreams are occasionally incredibly realistic, and it’s possible that I’ve had a similar dream before, so I was wondering--”

“Yes.”

“What?” 

“Yes, you came into my apartment in the middle of the night and convinced me that it would be a good idea to kiss you.”

“Oh!” Dirk gaped like a fish. “Right!”

They stood in silence for a moment. Todd shivered. Dirk glared at the open window as though it had nothing to do with him, rushed across the apartment to close it, and picked up a blanket which was crumpled at the foot of the bed.

“Here,” he said softly, and arranged the blanket over Todd’s shoulders as carefully as he could manage with his eyes so carefully averted. 

“Thanks,” returned Todd with a genuine smile. He stepped forward and placed a hand on Dirk’s arm. “It was good, wasn’t it?” 

Dirk raised his eyebrows and focused in an attempt to meet Todd’s eyes, but his gaze was stuck on the gentle, encouraging smile. “It was...very good. In my opinion.”

“So,” Todd said, leaning an inch closer and placing his other hand on Dirk’s waist, “I’m glad you convinced me, then.” He cocked an eyebrow and his smile became a smirk. 

“Well,” said Dirk, trying to replicate his body language but getting his hand tangled in the blanket and nearly stepping on Todd’s toes, “I wouldn’t mind convincing you again. Sometime. Soon.” He bent his face even closer to Todd’s.

There was a knock at the door, and Todd’s expression immediately changed into the one Dirk was more used to seeing, frustrated, annoyed, exasperated, and a few others which weren’t very nice either. Dirk touched Todd’s shoulder in a sort of consoling gesture and bounded to the door.

“Todd Brotzman’s residence!” he announced. Todd rolled his eyes.

“Um...Dirk? Okay, hi, it’s Farah.”

“Good morning, Farah!” He flung open the door and Farah got an unexpected eyeful of Dirk’s PJ’s and Todd wearing nothing but boxers and a blanket, looking characteristically grumpy and clueless about the situation.

“Yeah...something like that. How are you two doing?”

“Oh, excellent. We were just making breakfast, of course,” said Dirk, fibbing very unconvincingly. Farah glanced in the kitchen and observed the lack of breakfast things going on, noticed the very un-breakfasty smell of the place, and discerned Dirk’s cheeks which had pinkened in a way which suggested that something other than breakfast was on the table. She wished she’d stayed in bed.

“Hey, Farah.” Todd was doing a very bad job of trying not to look shifty. “Yep. Breakfast. I’m gonna...get dressed, first.” He walked past her, mumbled, “Don’t let Dirk try to make you anything,” and rummaged through various drawers and cabinets for something acceptably clean to wear.

“Noted.” She joined Dirk in the kitchen, trying to give Todd a bit of privacy in his own apartment. 

“So, that was a fun case, wasn’t it?! I’m so glad you decided to join us this time!”

“‘Fun,’ absolutely. Could that have anything to do with the fact that you’d almost certainly be dead if I hadn’t shown up?”

Todd finished buttoning his shirt and cleared his throat. “Thanks for that, by the way, again.” He looked pointedly at Dirk.

“Yes, right, thank you very much, Farah, for saving us. Again.”

She nodded impatiently. “Can you please try to remember that my intention in helping  _ fund  _ your detective agency had nothing to do with being  _ part  _ of your detective agency?”

“It’s just that you’re such a  _ good  _ part of my detective agency. We’ve become a highly efficient Module B.”

Farah stared directly at Dirk and pursed her lips, remembering that engaging in an argument about proper and effective module organization has never ended in her favor. He chose to take her silence as acceptance of his compliment.

For want of something to do, she opened the fridge, which wasn’t, in her opinion, well-stocked enough to provide a meal for three people, unless they’d be eating that leftover pizza which had been there for God knows how long. “Um, looks like...eggs?”

Dirk reached out to take the box of eggs from her, upon which Farah looked suitably distressed. She set them on the counter and stood guard. He pouted. 

“Scrambled eggs okay?” asked Todd. “Probably some...toast?”

“That’s fine, Todd.”

Dirk, itching for something to do, buzzed around looking for clean plates and cutlery, and Todd started whisking eggs with a fork.

That’s when Farah saw it. A reddish-purple bruise under Dirk’s left ear, definitely a bite-mark, and definitely not gained in the pursuit of his regular detective work.

“ _ Wh-- _ ” But she managed to cut herself off before saying anything that would embarrass all of them.

“Hm? Did you say something, Farah?” Dirk asked, picking open the plastic packaging from the wrong end of the loaf of bread, which he had found on top of the refrigerator.

“Noooo. Nope, not me. What are you--” she indicated the bread, then pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Never mind.”

When Todd finished pouring the egg mixture into a greased skillet, he checked the toaster to make sure Dirk hadn’t done anything that would make it explode. He then turned to Farah, intending to ask how many slices she wanted, but stopped when he saw her expression. She raised her eyebrow in Dirk’s direction, or more precisely, Dirk’s hickey’s direction, and stared back into Todd’s very soul with an  _ I-know-what-you-did _ look that caused him to back against the stove and nearly set his shirt on fire.

Todd had a decent poker face, and was able to meet Farah’s accusatory gaze steadily, but his ears told a different story. He spun around and poked the eggs in the pan with his spatula, and his ears glowed traitorously.

Farah reached slowly into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Scrolling through her messages, she quickly found Amanda’s name, and typed out a message one-handed, attempting to pick up the conversation with Dirk at the same time.

“Um, so, Dirk, we’re gonna have to work out an explanation for how you knew where to find the - the, um, the--”  _ Amanda, I don’t know how to prepare you for what I’m about to say, but I’m at your brother’s apartment and Dirk has a hickey. _

“It was a haunted gramophone, Farah.”

“Yeah. That. How do we explain why you knew exactly where it was? And, not that I think you two are terrible at talking to the police, but we all need to have something resembling the same story when they start wondering how an entire house disappeared.” Her tone indicated that, aware as she was of Dirk’s uncanny ability to make the simplest explanations into an exasperating ordeal, and of Todd’s usual inability to communicate anything effectively, she knew it would be up to her to get the loose ends (and there were plenty of those) officially tied up. It was like solving a second mystery, figuring out how to explain something supernatural without referring to supernatural phenomena in any way. If this was how Scully felt writing up case reports, she thought, she was glad she didn’t get into the FBI.

Dirk began listing alternative solutions, each even more ridiculous than what had actually happened. Farah checked her phone.

_ What. Like for real?? PICS Farah. No, fuck that, I’m coming over. Don’t tell Todd, he’ll get weird. _

_ For real. And we probably don’t need to be holistic detectives to know where that came from. _

_ Holy shit. On my way. _

Farah shoved her phone back into her pocket, businesslike. “Todd, do you mind if I make some coffee?”

“Go ahead, if you can get it to work. Put some in for me, too.” Todd looked guiltily at the cup he already had, which was growing cold. “Uh, not that this isn’t...nice, Dirk.”

Dirk beamed. Farah loaded a filter in the machine and scooped the grounds in, perfectly leveling the spoon with her finger each time. After filling the water canister and pressing a couple buttons, the machine whirred to life and the smell of freshly-brewed coffee soon filled the air.

“I’m - I’m certain that’s exactly what I did.” Dirk frowned at the offending machine which was obviously the one to blame, then jumped a few inches off of the counter when the toaster went off. “Ooh!”

Twenty minutes later, they had eaten breakfast and had begun to outline a story that more or less fit together with the facts of the case. In the meantime, Farah and Todd were staunchly ignoring the bruise on Dirk’s neck, which Dirk remained blithely unaware of.

A distant rumbling engine became barely audible. Dirk Gently started to panic.

So did Todd. “I swear to God, Dirk. I’m not going through this shit again.”

Farah pretended to check her phone. “Todd, it’s fine, I got a text from Amanda.”

The rumble became a roar, and Todd rushed to his window, where the Rowdies’ beat-up black van was parked. Or, sort of parked. He didn’t see how a parked vehicle could be in so much motion. Todd shook his head, deciding he’d like to remain in denial of this whole weird situation for as long as he possibly could.

They heard heavy boots clomping up the stairs. Todd furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, how did Amanda know you were here…?”

The door burst open. Amanda stood there, alone, with a huge grin. After a pause to ascertain whether she was accompanied by anyone likely to tear Todd’s apartment to bits or steal anyone’s psychic energy, Dirk exclaimed, “Good morning, Amanda!” 

“Hiiiiiii, Dirk,” she said, smirking in a way which could only be described as ‘highly suspicious’. He didn’t notice. Todd and Farah absolutely did.

“How lovely to see you! What a surprise!” 

She hugged Farah tightly, punched her brother on the arm with slightly too much force to be properly termed ‘affectionate,’ and went through the usual routine of being touched on the shoulder in varying levels of cautiousness or excitement by Dirk.

“Didn’t know surprises were your thing, Dirk.”

“Well, I’m not actually psychic, so.”

“No one  _ ever  _ said that,” said the three others in unison.

Todd rubbed his arm. “I guess I should expect you to be able to beat me up now, with all the crowbar-wielding and baseball bat-swinging and whatever other destruction you do on a regular basis.”

“Do I hear judgment, from you, right now? Seriously? Thought you were tired of secrets.” She looked slowly from him, to Dirk, and back to him. “And as if I couldn’t always beat you up.” She shook her head. “I’m coming back for dinner. I just stopped by for. Uh. The Rowdies like,  _ really  _ love that chamomile you have, Dirk. Can I grab some tea from your apartment?”

Dirk looked taken aback. “That doesn’t - right, so they’re not content with stealing my energy, they have to take my tea?! No, I mean, how? Who gave it to them in the first place? I thought we were friends, Amanda!”

“Sometimes friends have to lend friends chamomile to keep their friends from destroying their other friends’ apartments.”

The logic, Dirk had to agree, was flawless. 

\---

Amanda had left. Farah had also left. Todd looked distressed. Dirk was silently mourning the loss of his tea.

“Son of a bitch,” said Todd. “Christ. Dirk. Follow me.”

Dirk joined him in the bathroom. Todd positioned him in front of the mirror. 

“Oh look, it’s us,” said Dirk, bitterly.

“Okay, I know you’re upset about the tea, but I’ve never actually seen you drinking chamomile.”

“It’s very important to keep a well-stocked tea cupboard, Todd.”

“Tea...cupboard? Whatever. Here. Look.” He tilted Dirk’s chin to the right, and Dirk saw what everyone else had been gaping at all morning, namely, the impressive bruise beneath his left ear, which, for the record, Todd sincerely believed he had made well below Dirk’s collar.

He pressed the mark with his fingers, and staring intently in the mirror, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his pajamas to discover a few smaller bruises on his neck and collarbones. Todd felt his neck flush with heat, watching Dirk inspect each little trace of Todd’s mouth, watching him bite his lip, wanting to feel Todd’s teeth on his skin again. His hands rose to his own collar; he unbuttoned it, and the next button, and the next one, until their eyes met in the mirror, and Todd stilled, and Dirk’s breath caught in his throat.

Todd shoved the bathroom door shut and backed up against it, chin tilted upwards. He was defiant, he was pleading. Dirk stepped forward, once, twice, dipped his head, and braced his hands on either side of Todd’s shoulders. Todd tilted to one side, giving Dirk easier access to his neck, still daring, still hoping.

“Todd,” breathed Dirk, his hair falling forward and brushing against Todd’s jaw. He kissed his neck, nosed aside the fabric of his shirt, licked the heated skin beneath, and began, experimentally, to bite and suck around his neck and chest, checking periodically to see how the bruises progressed.

“You’re doing a - a good job,” Todd managed. Dirk blushed. “They’ll have even more to stare at.”

“Mm,” replied Dirk lazily, “so that’s what was going on? I must say I didn’t really,” he leaned in again, and the rest was muffled against Todd’s throat.

When they finally emerged from the bathroom, they were not only equally disheveled, with the same lopsided smiles and ruffled hair, but also, bruise for bruise, perfectly matched.


	5. A Suffusion of Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk wakes up with a feeling (although it's mostly a crumpet craving at first) that he has somewhere to be. He finds Farah and together they run into sort-of-not-quite-exactly a friend Dirk knew in London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: I know, there's a lot of crumpet shit. I just love The Crumpet Shop so much, thank god this is set in Seattle or I'd have a hell of a time shoehorning it in. Also, I mention the gum wall, and I'm not sure if it's still there? Though within the universe of this fic, it's absolutely there.
> 
> 2: Sorry the boys don't kiss in this one, advance warning. Things heat up a fair amount in the next chapter though so don't forsake me.
> 
> 3: I love Kate and had to write her. It'd be amazing to see her & the rest of the detective gang meet sometime in the series.

Todd was a man who very much enjoyed a full night’s rest. Left to his own devices, Dirk either slept the whole day through, or not at all, and though he was getting better at maintaining something resembling a sleep schedule with Todd as his alarm, the universe still sometimes saw fit to wake Dirk well before six, sending a jolt of signals through him that made no sense whatsoever, except that they were very clear on the point that he shouldn’t be asleep.

Maybe it wasn’t the universe this time, though. Maybe he was just really, really craving a crumpet. He got out of bed, careful not to wake Todd, and went to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. He found a tie in the bathroom cupboard, one draped over the back of a chair, one in the kitchen, and one on the coffee table, and held them up next to each other, deciding which to wear.

“The ice cream one,” said a groggy voice from under a pile of blankets.

Dirk jumped. “Good morning, Todd!”

“Going somewhere?”

“I just...I don’t know, actually. I feel like there’s something I have to do.” He didn’t want to admit to the crumpet thing.

“This isn’t like, the thing where you go, ‘Hm, maybe I should go over here,’ and then it’s a portal to another world or some shit?”

“No, I don’t think it’s anything as serious as that. We’ll see when I end up there.” He paused. “That is,  _ if _ I end up there.”

“Stop sounding ominous. Be careful.” Todd rolled over and mashed his face into his pillow.

\---

Dirk took the bus most of the way into town - he preferred to drive, but even he wasn’t going to mess with space-time by trying to park in central Seattle on a weekday morning. He walked up a long hill, paused for breath, clutching his ribs, turned up the main road, and arrived at The Crumpet Shop, which was swiftly becoming an undeniable addiction. He knew it wasn’t really Todd’s kind of place, and knew he’d be soundly mocked for even mentioning it, but...maybe, eventually, they could go on a date there, a real Official Breakfast Date, instead of just ordering pizza in and watching movies and falling asleep on the couch and pretending it was a date. They could sit by the bay, listening to the waves and seagulls, the boats and the busy market sounds, and hold hands. And eat crumpets, naturally.

Dirk ordered at the counter, turned to sit down, and was greeted by the sight of Farah, her hair compressed into a beautiful patterned scarf topped with a pair of reflective sunglasses, instantly recognizable by the way she desperately avoided eye contact with Dirk in the hope that she wouldn’t be dragged into anything absurd and could just spend a full morning relaxing with a lemon ricotta crumpet and a pot of assam, thank you very much.

“Faraaaahhh!”

“Hey,” she acknowledged halfheartedly.

“I love your scarf! Ooh, I could get you one that’s the same pattern as my tie! What do you think? Agency uniform?” He held it up near her head to get an idea of what it would look like.

Farah jumped away from the end of his tie, well aware that for Dirk, it was as much a convenient napkin as an accessory, and said, “No way. Not under any circumstances.”

“Hm. Todd likes this one. Anyway, what are you doing here so early?”

“I’m always up this early. It’s not so busy here before eight, and I thought I’d start my nice, relaxing day off with,” she gestured, “my favorite.”

“What are you reading? Is that,” Dirk tilted his head, “a book about incendiary weapons protocol?”

“No. It’s a normal, fictional novel, for my enjoyment.” She tucked it into her bag.

“Well,” said Dirk only a little suspiciously, “my favorite one is the--”

“WALRUS!” shouted an aproned employee from behind the counter.

“Exactly!” Dirk winked.

Farah had a slightly unkind thought, which was that maybe, if she ran out now, she might still have an almost-nice and almost-relaxing day off. Her eye caught on the shine of the lemon curd and the loose-leaf tea swirling around the infuser, she briefly wondered if it was worth it, and in that second’s hesitation, she had lost her moment. She was at the mercy of the whims of the universe, and that made the back of her neck itch uncomfortably under the collar of her leather jacket.

They ate, and chatted pleasantly, and then it began. “Is there a walrus at the Seattle Aquarium, Farah?”

“I don’t think so, it’s probably not big enough.”

“Hmm. We should  _ definitely  _ check.”

Dirk’s theory of interconnectedness took them on what, to Farah, felt a lot like a wild goose chase from the Crumpet Shop to the aquarium to Pike Place Market to the Seattle Underground to the Space Needle to, finally, the airport. She thought, perhaps, that Dirk just wanted an excuse to go to all the places Todd didn’t feel like taking him, but when he was slapped by a flying fish, nearly permanently affixed to the gum wall by his hair, and fainted on the Space Needle elevator before even reaching the observation deck, Farah knew it wasn’t his idea of a fun morning adventure.

Upon entering the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, Dirk was captivated by the sculpture of the landing goose which hung from the high ceiling, made of hundreds of smaller elements, suspended in motion. He asked Farah whether she knew what it was called, and who the artist was, and when she didn’t know, he asked a security guard, and when  _ she _ didn’t know (and was clearly made antsy by Dirk’s unorthodox behavior), he asked a barista, and when  _ he _ didn’t know...et cetera.

“Please,” said Farah, rubbing her thumb between her eyebrows, “for God’s sake. For  _ my  _ sake, Dirk.  _ Google it _ ,” she hissed.

He did. “‘Landing,’” he read, “by Ralph Helmick and...Stuart...Schechter?” Dirk gasped. “We need to get to--Ohhh, where am I going?! Look!” He pointed at the arrivals board, where one of the rows was flashing, ‘LHR to SEA - 12:03 - ARRIVED’, and looked in panic at the time on his phone. “We need to meet someone in negative four minutes! Well, probably. Farah, you’re good at maps, where do we go?”

She crossed her arms, taking a moment to process what had actually happened to bring Dirk to this conclusion, and to question whether, indeed, anything had actually happened. “That’s a sign with an arrow pointing left. ‘Arrivals’? If we go left…we might even end up there.”

“You’re  _ so _ directionally capable. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They hurried down a long hallway and emerged into a rush of people who were grumpy, jet-lagged, and impatient to put plenty of space between themselves and SeaTac as soon as possible.

“Kate! Kate Schechter!” Dirk’s voice echoed throughout the arrivals terminal. “Kate?”

“What the hell?!” Farah groaned. “You knew who you were looking for all along?”

“No! Absolutely not! Well, not until we got to the airport... _ well _ , not until right this second when I called her name, actu--oh!”

A woman, smartly-dressed, about 30 years old and carrying more luggage than seemed physically possible for someone her size, spun around and nearly smacked into Dirk’s chest.

“Dirk Gently? Is that you?” When Kate overcame the glare from Dirk’s jacket, she recognized him, and a surprised grin spread across her face.

“It  _ is  _ me, and I’m so glad we found you! Mostly because I think Farah’s tired of ‘babysitting’ me, as she so unkindly put it earlier.”

Farah slid her shades down her nose and nodded at Kate.

“Hi, good to meet you, I’m Kate! Are you like his bodyguard or are you just dressed incredibly cool?”

“Well…” hesitated Farah, “I should be his bodyguard. I’m his patron, actually. The patron of his detective agency, rather. But he needs a bodyguard most of the time and I tend to fill in.”

“Holy shit, you actually  _ have  _ an agency now?”

Dirk beamed. “Oh yes! Didn’t I always tell you I would? It’s me, and a couple of very well-written advertisements, if I do say so, and Farah, who’s amazing help besides the financial contribution, or, er, contributions, and of course, Todd! He’s my…” Dirk pursed his lips, trying to find the best term to describe his… “Confrère?”

Farah rolled her eyes. “Just promote him to partner already!”

“I can’t, Farah, he’s not ready. No, not ready at all. I have only his best interests in mind.”

Kate shook her head, confused. “So there’s someone who works every case with you? Like, someone who...I mean, this is his real job? He tolerates you all the time?”

“You are  _ just  _ as rude as I remember, Kate.” Dirk sniffed. “How is Thor, anyway? Are you still, sort of, a not-thing?”

She sighed. “Obviously, and I don’t feel like this is a cheap excuse, it’s complicated.”

“Sure, sure. How’s the weather in England, I should’ve asked?”

“It’s...well, now that you mention it, it’s brighter. In London, anyway. Or, on my block. He’s improving, very slowly, very gradually. He has plenty of time, I guess.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah. Hey, I’m sorry your flat exploded. Or did something explode out of it? I didn’t see you after that, and then you left…”

“Right, yes, that was a jet plane.”

“Oh, okay.”

Farah stared. “I have to say, I don’t like this conversation at all.”

“Does the existence of the God of Thunder, et cetera, surprise you even after one of the people you bodyguarded swapped souls with a corgi?”

“Yes?” Farah crossed her arms challengingly, wanting either more proof or less chaos, whichever was more feasible in the current world she lived in.

Kate’s eyes widened. “Now  _ that _ sounds interesting.”

“It was mostly traumatic,” Farah sighed.

“I feel like we already have a lot in common,” Kate smiled. “Now, I’ve got some time before my assignment starts. Why don’t we get some takeout and share stories about how weird Dirk is?”

Farah grinned back. Dirk pouted, looking between them helplessly.

\---

Todd sat cross-legged on his bed, picking out a tune on his guitar and making notes on a legal pad. They might have been lyrics, but he never sang them, at least not when anyone could hear, or they might have been chords, except he never forgot the patterns once he came up with them.

They weren’t lyrics or chords, as even his old bandmates believed. All of Todd’s previous notebooks were diaries. When he wrote in them, it was like all the songwriting work was already done, and he could improvise and build upon it when he actually sat down to play. He had the talent, during the Mexican Funeral, and he wouldn’t say anything against the other guys’ abilities, but the music was bad. The lyrics were worse.

At the very maximum, ten percent of the diaries’ contents were true. The man whom Todd was pretending to be would take all that false creativity and inspiration and come up with something that nearly managed to pass for the truth. This man didn’t write the lyrics down, because Todd hoped he’d forget them once he left the band. He couldn’t keep a real diary; he was too good a liar to do something so stupid. Eventually it got confusing, because when he looked into his diaries, trying to find a good note or reference he’d overlooked, there was only evidence of someone he wasn’t, someone he couldn’t relate to.

This was Todd’s first true music diary, and his first true personal diary. It was his first record of his poetry, the first time he transferred what was in his head onto paper as faithfully as possible, and the first time he wasn’t embarrassed to read it back. He reached the final page, scribbled a few more lines, and wrote the date in the corner. Chewing his eraser, he flipped back to the first page, and thought, and strummed, and thought, and finally, across the top, wrote, “A Suffusion of Yellow.”

Okay, so it wasn’t like, the punkest title ever. Maybe it was really corny. But it was painfully, wonderfully honest, and even if no one ever saw it, he was, for once, proud.

\---

Farah drove them back to the Ridgely, with Kate in the passenger seat and Dirk sharing the back with two large pizzas and miscellaneous suitcases, bags, and duffels - the ones which didn’t fit in the trunk.

“So, Kate, are you sure he’s going to be okay back in London? Is he going to...just...sit around your flat?” Dirk had only met Thor a few times, but on those occasions he couldn’t help but notice the constant destruction of property which seemed to be coincident with his massive size and quick temper.

“Probably not. I’m not thinking about it. I’ve taught him how to skype, so at least I’ll be able to get some idea of what the damage is, but for now I’m just doing a normal job, writing a piece, on my own, without any disasters or inexplicable phenomena following me aroun-- Oh, shit. ”

Kate frowned. Farah was sympathetic.

“What?” asked Dirk, confused.

“Well, I arrive in Seattle, and here  _ you  _ are. That can’t be good news.”

“Maybe the universe wanted us to...hang out?”

“You and I both know the universe is a bitch, Dirk. You didn’t come pick me up at the airport so we could have a nice weekend in watching Netflix.”

Dirk shrugged. “You’re  _ probably  _ right,” he conceded, “but let’s not worry about the inevitable! Where would that get us? The only inevitable you should be worried about is me eating this entire pizza before we get home.”

At the sound of the cardboard lid being pulled open, Farah and Kate simultaneously reached back to swat his hands away.

“ _ Owww! _ ”

\---

Todd opened his apartment door. He wasn’t expecting Dirk to return over four hours later with an entourage of pizzas and unexpected guests.

“You said it wouldn’t be a mystery.”

“Yeah. It did end up being a mystery.”

“Did I miss the good stuff?”

“I don’t think it’s started yet. I found Farah eating a crumpet and I got hit by a fish and then we found Kate, who’s sort of almost a friend of mine--” Dirk noted Kate’s indignant expression and amended, “well, maybe not exactly one hundred per cent a friend, but she likes pizza nearly as much as I do, so the foundation is there. I met her in London when I...hit her car.”

Kate stuck out her hand. “Pleasure. Yeah, don’t worry, I’m not English, keep your hat on. I think we have a lot in common, I spend all day taking care of a manchild and cleaning up his messes.”

Todd broke into a grin. “That does sound familiar.”

“Oh dear. You’re getting along.”

They spread out the pizzas on Todd’s coffee table and got down to business. Once Kate had put away a couple of slices, she started in on embarrassing Dirk, true to her word.

“And then he did the most hysterical thing, he was like, ‘I really think it’d be best if you stayed at mine tonight,’ and I just lost it. Completely lost my shit. Spat my drink all over him.”

Todd and Farah burst into laughter, much to Dirk’s dismay.

“That was-- So you misinterpreted me, a nice detective making an innocent offer to help you out, and  _ I’m _ the one being laughed at?”

“In my defense, you looked a lot shiftier than you do right now. You were, and this is by far the kindest way to put it, a complete mess.”

“Oh, right! You took my tie, and I had just had my nose broken, if you recall, and been in a car smash--”

“You gave me the tie, and I didn’t break your nose, and you definitely ran into my car.”

“Regardless, I don’t see what was so hilarious about your misunderstanding me. I am a delight to be with.” Farah coughed to hide a laugh. “At least  _ some  _ people think so, sometimes.”

Dirk pouted and folded his arms, and Todd shifted closer to him on the couch. “C’mon, Dirk, I think Kate just means your moves need work. Or, whatever sense helps you tell the difference between sounding, hm, flirty? Suggestive? And sounding like your normally strange self. That sense needs a lot of work.”

“If the universe wanted,” Dirk began, but it sounded weak, even to him. Then his eyes brightened. “No, I must have ‘moves,’ or you wouldn’t have kissed me.”

“Um,” Todd reddened. “Y-you practically dared me!” Todd could feel Kate’s amused eyes on him, and could see Farah preoccupying herself with a pizza crust in his periphery.

“And it worked. So how’s that for ‘moves’?”

“Anyway,” said Todd, working admirably through the crack in his voice, “how about you, what about…”

“Thor,” supplied Dirk.

“Thor?” 

“Well, he’s still the God of Thunder,” began Kate, “and he’s still currently living in my flat. It’s a pretty long story. I guess it’ll sound ridiculous, but it’s amazing the kinds of things you can get used to after a while.”

Todd smiled, and reached for Dirk’s hand, which rested between them on the couch. “Yeah, I think I know what you mean.”


	6. Fantasies and Hesitations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Todd gets acquainted with his subconscious. He and Dirk want to take their relationship forward, but both of them are hesitant for very different reasons. Fortunately for them, Amanda and Kate are excellent advisers.

Todd Brotzman was presently pressed against his kitchen divider wall, being ambitiously fondled by one Dirk Gently, who, contrary to his suppositions, was actually really good at this sort of thing. He didn’t know how Dirk could know exactly what to do to make Todd’s head fall back against the wall in pleasure, or what to say to make his heart melt and his cheeks redden, even after they had lived, worked, been together for all this time.

“I fu-...I love this, Dirk, I _love_ this.” And even now, Todd felt a bit embarrassed cursing in front of him.

“I know, Todd.” He disentangled his hand from Todd’s underwear and placed it on his hip, keeping him from moving away from the wall. “ _I_ fucking love this, too. You’re _so_ fucking good to me.”

Todd blushed, immediately became annoyed with himself for blushing, and blushed even more.

Dirk slowly dropped to his knees, firmly maintaining his hold on Todd’s hips. “So,” he began, licking his lips and looking up at Todd from under his lashes, “what would you like me to do?” His lips were so red and so enticing, having been bitten rather extensively between Todd’s teeth after getting _very_ distracted from their dinner preparation.

Todd’s eyes squeezed shut. “Dirk, c’mon, you can’t talk like that when you want it as badly as I do.”

Dirk rubbed his open mouth along the opening of Todd’s boxers. “You think I’m that desperate?”

“I know you are.”

Todd sat up in bed. _Nope_. He shoved a hand under the covers. _No way_.

He slid out from bed, careful not to disturb Dirk, though he slept like the dead anyway. He tiptoed to the bathroom and closed the door, leaving the light off so he wouldn’t have to meet his eyes in the mirror, and took care of things as silently as he could.

Todd may have avoided his own gaze, his own judgment, but when he closed his eyes, he saw the Dirk in his dream - well, dreams - looking up at him, biting his lower lip shyly, _“Please, Todd, can I--? Please, can I?”_ As if he’d beg for him, _ha_ , Todd almost laughed at himself, but remembered he had to keep quiet.

It’s not that he thought things would progress quickly after they’d kissed. It was more that Dirk had made it sound very simple: here they were at a crossroads, they chose to continue, they would end up at another crossroads, and so on. But they would kiss - sweetly, on the nose, when they woke up in the morning, slowly, tenderly, whiling away lazy afternoons, desperately, when they thought it might be their last chance - and Dirk never made another move, and Todd sure as hell wasn’t going to.

He wasn’t the sort of person who needed sex all the time. It was nice, yeah, sure, but not the end of the world if he wasn’t getting any. The thing is, with Dirk spending more and more time with him, in his apartment, in his bed, he had very few occasions to, y’know, do what sometimes needed to be done. The result was a whole lot of sexual frustration, and late nights or early mornings guiltily jerking off in the bathroom while Dirk slept. Todd reasoned with himself that this was a better solution than ignoring it and then inevitably having his first wet dream in over a decade and _then_ having to explain himself to someone who seems more or less uninterested in taking things further without actually dying of mortification.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he sped his hand, thinking it was best to get this over with as quickly as possible, even if that meant fantasizing a tiny little bit about his best friend.

Dirk, on his knees, tie barely loosened, pressing wet kisses above his waistband, teasing with his hands. Brushing hair out of Dirk’s eyes, caressing his cheek, Dirk turning to take Todd’s fingers in his mouth, two at first, then a third, as if to say, _Look what I can do._ His eyes still saying so much, taking over from his mouth. _And I bet I could take even more._ Licking Todd’s fingertips with the very tip of his tongue.

 _I don’t think so_ , Todd would say, knees weak. _Prove it, then_.

And Dirk would prove it, and more. Messy, earnest, always stopping to ask how he was doing, holding Todd’s hips against the wall, keeping his legs from giving out. Todd would dig his nails into the wall so he didn’t pull Dirk’s hair when he came, so he couldn’t be too rough without realizing it. And then he would slide down to join Dirk on the floor, and watch him dab the corners of his mouth with the tip of his tie, falling awfully short of prim and composed.

Todd opened his eyes. He was slumped against the counter, panting. After cleaning himself up (he was forced to turn on the light at this point, though he still carefully avoided the mirror), he tiptoed back to bed.

“Todd?” said Dirk blearily, feeling the mattress shift.

“Yeah, just me. Get back to sleep,” he reassured him, wrapping an arm around Dirk’s middle, pulling him close, and getting a very contented noise in return.

Why did he want more when he already had more than he deserved?

\---

“Hi, Kate! Oh, where are you? I can’t see you, is your video on?”

“Hey, yeah, it’s on. Christ, it’s like skyping your grandparents. Where are you?”

She could see a bit of Dirk’s hair and his left ear, and behind him, tiles, a mat, and the corner of a cupboard.

“I’m on the kitchen floor of my flat. Y’know those little containers of ranch dressing that come in American pizza boxes? I always forget about them, as they offend me on a very deep and personal level, and so when I opened the box a minute ago, I was horrified, of course, and and jumped back, and it fell on the floor. So I was going to clean it, and then you called, and I was distracted, and slipped, and now I’m sort of just lying here in this puddle of ranch dressing.”

“Totally didn’t ask for an explanation, but that’s great, Dirk, I see you’re still over there doing you, that’s really fantastic. You gonna get up?”

“No, because after I spoke to you, I was planning on wallowing in self-pity, and what better way to do that than on the kitchen floor and covered in a condiment I hate?”

“C’mon, I’m sure you’ve been through worse. Like I’m almost one hundred percent sure you’ve been through worse, but let’s do this. Tell me about your relationship problems and for the love of God, don’t drop your phone on your face, because I _will_ laugh and I can’t be held accountable.”

“I’ll try.” Dirk sighed. “How’d you know it was about Todd?”

Kate arched an eyebrow. “Uh, maybe ‘cause you’re about as unsubtle as...a British guy covered in ranch dressing.”

“No more teasing me, this is very serious, and also, I hate being teased.”

“So, what’s the deal?”

“Kate…” he sighed. “I love him.”

“Hm...it’s just that, while I was there, with you guys, you said that to him every five minutes. He’s gotta know by now, he’s not _that_ obtuse.”

“No, I mean, I really love him, and he’s - well, not only is he still here, but we’re like, something. Friends, and something else.”

Kate thought for a moment. “This feels like a weird question, Dirk, but have you slept with him?”

“We sleep together...sometimes.” Kate rolled her eyes. “Oh! No, I haven’t, er, we haven’t, um, no.”

“Wow. Really? Not even a little bit?”

“What’s having a _little bit_ of sex with someone, Kate?” said Dirk, slightly hysterically.

“Look, just, ask him, ‘Hey, why don’t we try this?’ He’s always waiting for you to drag him into shit, and he’s not going to find sex with you any weirder than, like, time travel.”

“Kate...the problem with that, er, is…”

She narrowed her eyes.

“He doesn’t _know_.”

“Dirk, are you fucking kidding me?”

“I know! I know. ‘Ooh, Todd, this is nice, can we do a bit of this? Also I’m trans, so there’s something to keep in mind.’ It’s bad, Kate, no matter how well he reacts.”

“That’s not good at all. He’d do that thing where his mouth gapes open like a fish, you know.”

“I’m all too aware.”

“God, why didn’t you do this when you started getting, like, involved?”

Dirk nodded rapidly and shrugged. “I can’t even blame the universe this time. It was just me being really stupid. I was so, so disbelieving that he - well, anyway. I honestly thought it wouldn’t be of consequence.”

“Let’s just get our facts together. So. You’re in love with Todd, he’s in love with you, things have been, like, heating up (or whatever, feel free to leave out the details), you want to move forward, you think he might want to move forward, and so far there aren’t any problems besides the normal stuff that crops up between two weird guys in a relationship which, for whatever reason, they won’t call a relationship.”

“That’s rightish,” said Dirk, knowing that becoming defensive about labels in this conversation would get him nowhere.

“Todd’s not gay, right?”

“No. Farah told me that during our first case together, he flirted with her a few times. She told me because she just thought he might a liability to a detective agency, because if he couldn’t tell she was, in her words, blatantly and exclusively into girls, she had to question his competency.”

“I love her so much, damn. Let’s stay focused, though, Dirk.”

“Yes.”

“So he’s possibly bi, and based on how he was with me, not a completely horrible person. Did he say anything or ask you anything stupid about me when I wasn’t there?”

“He said he liked you but was frightened of your scary lady shoes. He said they could easily be a murder weapon in one of our cases.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Well, Dirk, this situation isn’t an ideal one, but your not-boyfriend is a near-ideal person to come out to. Though obviously he might’ve preferred it if it happened months ago.”

“Excellent, so I just have to worry about him thinking I lied to him and withheld information and didn’t trust him enough to share that with him after we’ve spent all this time encouraging each other to be honest and open and...I’m still completely fucked.”

Kate shrugged. “The passing man’s burden, Dirk.”

Dirk pouted back. “That’s not funny. Wait, speaking of - how did _you_ know, initially? I don’t recall coming out to you.”

She smiled. “First of all, your name is _Dirk Gently_ …”

“ _Very_ transphobic,” he said loftily.

“Look, seriously, I’m just saying, this isn’t going to tear you guys apart. I saw how he was with you. You’ll be fine.”

“That’s...quite reassuring, Kate, thank you.”

“You are ridiculous for not telling him, though.”

“Got that, yeah.”

The sound of something heavy smashing against, or possibly through, a wall, blasted out of Dirk’s phone speakers.

Kate didn’t flinch. She looked as though she was doing some quick meditating, and then, in a calm voice, said, “Dirk, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut our call a bit short. There’s something massive and obnoxious in my living room which requires my immediate attention.” She walked composedly from the room.

Dirk hung up before the shouting started. He sighed and looked around him, blinking.

_Why am I on the kitchen floor? Oh, fuck._

\---

Amanda took a long drag from her cigarette and squinted peripherally back at Todd. His three forehead wrinkles became five as he waited for a response.

“So, hold on, I’m still not - I can’t be getting this right. You. And Dirk. Like, four months ago. With all the fucking hickeys? You didn’t do it _then_?”

Todd shook his head slowly.

“You didn’t do it that time - remember when me and the boys came over and you were--”

“No, Amanda, listen. And give me that,” he said, removing the joint from between her fingers and taking a hit. “Fuck,” he coughed, “is this why you hang out with those guys?”

“Besides the cool jackets, yeah.”

The corner of Todd’s mouth twitched upwards. “Listen, I wasn’t asking you any of this because I wanted sex advice from my little sister, especially about _Dirk Gently_.”

“Good. So, just to be totally clear, then: you’re not asking me how I think you should have sex with your boyfriend, but _whether_ I think you should have sex with your boyfriend?”

“Th-that’s - we’re - I don’t think I phrased it that way, and no!” Todd pressed his fingers into his temples. “I came here to ask you whether you think I deserve it. Not just that, but, you know what I mean. Being with him. Whether you think he deserves better. And I know you’ll tell me the truth.”

Amanda snatched the joint back from him and finished it off. “I always do.”

Todd didn’t reply, merely waited for her to continue.

She took a minute to decide whether Todd had earned her advice. Probably not, but Dirk had, and she didn’t want Todd to do anything stupid just because she hadn’t stepped in. “Well, Dirk needs a...someone that doesn’t try to get him to prove himself. Someone who takes him at his word. Someone who - who doesn’t try to make him any less weird, or, uh, infuriating, or stubborn--” She cut herself off and looked out the window.

Todd frowned, half a realization forming. “Okay...but, we all do that for him, right? You believed in him the first time you met even when he was completely insensitive, Farah literally invested in him, even the 3, and that woman who was trying to kill him, are technically ‘someone’ like that.”

“All of our lives have been affected by whatever it is Dirk is, Todd. But the reason you’ve changed, as a person, is because of _who_ he is, as a person. It’s not the intuitions he has or the adventures he takes you on. It’s because he calls you out on your bullshit. He can see when you’re making excuses, and he holds you accountable, and he makes you stand up for yourself. Maybe without him you never would’ve done that. You would’ve kept distancing yourself from everyone and everything you liked, just because you couldn’t stop convincing yourself that you were a bad person and deserved it and there was nothing you could do about it.”

She took a moment to calm down. It was difficult to have this conversation without rehashing everything all over again. “You just work together, Todd. It’s not about whether you deserve each other. You were both exactly what the other needed at exactly the right time.”

“And now?”

“How the hell do I know?”

Todd shot her a glare.

“You can’t keep fucking asking ‘Do I deserve this?’ every time you do something. If you both want the same thing, what’s stopping you? Just talk to him!”

“He’ll think he’s like, obligated, like it’s a friendship thing, or like he’ll disappoint me if he doesn’t want to…”

Amanda squinted sideways at him again. “So this is about sex again, right? I mean, it’s--”

“Yeah, alright! Yeah, I don’t think - maybe he’s not into me like that. Or maybe anyone. I don’t know. There’s something - whatever, I don’t know. It’s weird. I’m not the intuitive one. Do you have any Doritos?”

“Don’t change th--actually, yeah, my craving for Doritos is suddenly stronger than my total revulsion at my brother talking to me about sex. But you better talk to him. If you don’t, then my honest answer is no, you don’t deserve anything from him when you’re not telling him the whole truth.”

Todd nodded, eyes avoidant. “Dammit.”

“You knew what I’d say before you came here.” Amanda grinned. “And you’re welcome.”


	7. Pretty Good Detectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys try out some actual communication and it all goes much, much better than either of them had hoped. Who knew?!

Much as Todd knew that taking his sister’s advice would be the best and smartest course of action, he also knew that it would be far easier to avoid everything and deny himself any and all of life’s pleasures until he worked up the courage to talk to Dirk. In an effort to do so, and to keep all intrusive thoughts about his best friend to a minimum, Todd was extremely evasive, or at least as evasive as anyone could be of Dirk Gently, especially when the very same Dirk Gently was practically living in his apartment.

In short, it had been nearly two weeks since Todd had kissed him properly, and though Dirk had been assured and then repeatedly reassured that it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help but become a little hurt and a little desperate for it by the time they kissed again. He was aware that near-constant physical affection wasn’t _always_ feasible, or even desirable. He also knew it wasn’t necessarily _what friends did_ , but it had become a big part of what he and Todd did, and if there was a reason Todd seemed to be keeping an annoyingly respectable distance between them lately, he was going to get to the bottom of it like the pretty good detective he was.

They were sitting in bed one afternoon, watching a film on Todd’s laptop and sharing a pot of some blend of tea or other that Todd couldn’t even pronounce, and Dirk, all but begging for affection, spent most of it kissing Todd’s hands, his shoulder, his neck, the top of his head, so that by the time the film was over, Todd couldn’t wait another second to feel Dirk’s lips on his.

Dirk had had plenty of time to think about what he could do to nudge Todd along, and after setting the laptop carefully on the nightstand, he quickly straddled Todd’s hips, placed his hands on his shoulders, and kissed him deeply and confidently. Of course, ‘confident’ for Dirk Gently didn’t translate as ‘smooth’ or even remotely ‘adept’, but Todd was more turned on by the clumsiness and unpredictability of his methods than he cared to admit.

Dirk unbuttoned and removed Todd’s plaid shirt, and snuck his hand into the t-shirt underneath, feeling the soft skin at his waist, the strength of him, and the way his ribs expanded when he gasped a breath around Dirk’s lips. Todd tried to return the favor, hurriedly untucking his button-up and holding his waist, but was impeded by Dirk’s undershirt, then tried to grab his ass to bring their hips into closer contact, but was impeded by Dirk’s hands, purposeful around his wrists, and a quiet tutting noise.

Upon hearing Todd’s impatient groan, Dirk smiled rather deviously. “I don’t know, Todd, it’s been some time since you let me kiss you. Are you sure you shouldn’t take things rather more slowly?” He lowered his weight down onto Todd’s lap, and watched his reaction: a sharp inhalation, and a barely-controlled movement from Todd’s hips which mirrored his own.

“At least - at least let me take off your tie,” Todd said. Dirk relaxed his hold on Todd’s wrists and was immediately pulled into a deep kiss, both of Todd’s hands holding the end of his tie like a lifeline.

“Mmmh,” moaned Dirk, sublimely overwhelmed by the tightness around his neck and Todd’s tongue licking into his mouth. He couldn’t do anything but try to return the kiss, holding Todd’s face in his hands, and occasionally feeling Todd’s hips twitch beneath him as he tried to keep from grinding against the tempting pressure of Dirk’s weight atop him.

It was the first time Dirk had really seen him like this: desperate, far more desperate than Dirk would ever have believed he could be, and approaching something new and uncharted between them, remaining on the verge of it, and not letting himself go forward without the confirmation that Dirk was beside him, exploring that space too.

Then, suddenly, Todd held Dirk firmly back, both hands on his chest, ears burning. “Stop, Dirk, just a second,” he said, voice low.

Dirk jumped back. “I’m so sorry, Todd, did I--? I thought it was--”

“You’re fine. You’re totally fine.” He stood up out of bed. “Yeah,” he said to the floor, “sorry, I just, fuck, how do I say this? You - why were you doing that? What are you trying to do to me?”

“I’m just trying to solve the mystery, Todd.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The mystery of why you haven’t been kissing me, even though this freshly-acquired evidence suggests that you still really,” Dirk’s eyes fell, alighting on some even more incriminating evidence south of Todd’s belt, “ _really_ like doing it.”

Todd followed his eyes and quickly folded his hands in front of himself, reddening. “Look. Um. So, yeah, fine, I haven’t been totally honest about all that, and I owe you an explanation, but right now - if you don’t mind - I just have to deal with, uh, something?”

“Oh! Right!” Dirk gave him a double thumbs-up and smiled in what he must have thought was an encouraging manner. “You just...do what you need to do, Todd!”

“Don’t _you_ need to...do...anything?”

“Not particularly.”

“Oh.” Todd wasn’t sure how to take that. He wasn’t thinking especially clearly. “Just a sec,” he said, walking towards the bathroom. “Or, like, a minute.”

“Todd, it’s alright if you, well, you don’t have to go hide, I mean. You can, if you want, er, why don’t you stay? I can go, if you’d rather, but you should stay here. It’s your bed,” he finished, feebly.

Todd turned, hands still not-very-casually folded in front of him.

“That okay with you?”

“Certainly!” Dirk’s eyes brightened.

Todd installed himself back under the warm covers, flat on his back. Dirk kissed his cheek, then settled firmly against the wall, leaving Todd enough space that if he really wanted to, he could still pretend he was alone.

“Is it weird that I’m nervous?”

“Maybe a bit. It’s perfectly normal, Todd.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that it’s normal!” Todd made a frustrated noise, an indignant laugh. “Nervous you’re watching me. It’s the first time you’re watching me do this.” His eyes flew open and he turned his head towards Dirk. “I hope.”

“I promise I haven’t spied on you. Not since the first time I spied on you, anyway.” He tried to control a crooked smile, but it spread all over his face, wrinkling his nose and the corners of his eyes.

“Great. Reassuring.” Todd took a few deep breaths.

“No pressure.”

“Shut up, Dirk.” He closed his eyes again, and after another moment of overcoming his nerves, he reached under the blanket, shoved his hand in his boxers, and bit back a groan of relief. A minute later he had found his rhythm and lost his timidity.

Dirk watched, enraptured. Todd’s body tensed and relaxed, his eyebrows knitted in pleasure and in concentration, his breaths came more rapidly.

“ _Todd_ ,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” He slowed his hand, but didn’t stop.

Dirk’s heart was in his throat. He was already getting a lot more than he’d hoped for. “Will you look at me?”

Todd blinked, and turned his head, and gradually focused his eyes on Dirk’s. “Yes,” he said, breathless.

Dirk rested his fingertips on Todd’s shoulder, just enough to see if he minded, then his palm, firmly and solidly, steadying Todd and himself, maintaining the distance but wishing he was closer. He wasn’t sure what to say. “Are you…” He stopped to clear his throat. “Getting close?”

“Uh,” replied Todd, an affirmative grunt. His forehead wrinkled, and Dirk could see light perspiration beginning to glint over his neck and chest. It was difficult to maintain the eye contact between them, not due to embarrassment, but because Todd was finding it near-impossible to keep his eyelids from drooping shut in pleasure.

“Todd,” Dirk repeated, not a question this time, but a certainty. He brushed a hesitant thumb over Todd’s cheek and the light freckles there.

Todd gasped, held back desperate noises in his throat, and his chest rose and fell irregularly. He put his free hand over Dirk’s, and their fingers twined together as Todd finished. Dirk smiled, and kissed his slackened mouth, once, twice, three times, until he was in a fit state to reciprocate.

“How are you? You look nice.”

“Mmm. Yeah, well. I feel like...a mess. I’m gonna clean up.” He grabbed a tissue from his top drawer and, when that wasn’t as effective as he was hoping, made a quick trip to the bathroom.

When he returned, he began to ask, “You sure you don’t need to do any--?” but was interrupted by Dirk pulling him closer by his t-shirt, imploring, “Kiss me, Todd.”

Todd had to stop him - not because he was trying to keep him at arm’s length, this time, but because he knew that if he didn’t talk to Dirk now, things would become very awkward for the both of them very quickly. It may not have been a universe-sent intuition, but it was enough of a feeling that Todd knew he had to do it, even if it was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

“Oh, not this again,” Dirk pouted.

“No, I just...I should tell you - I should say what I need to say. I’ve been feeling weird about it for a while,” he admitted. “As in, guilty. I probably should have been up-front with you about it, like, before this.”

“That’s alright, Todd, I read that it’s very common to feel guilty after an orgasm.”

“Remind me never to check out your internet history,” Todd grimaced.

“Hush. What is it?”

Todd put both of his hands over his face. “Nnnnngh,” he groaned. “Okay. I’ve been, uh, lately, in the last month or so, I’ve been thinking about you, um, when I do that.”

“About me, what? I think about you when I’m doing anything.”

“No, I mean,” Todd looked pained, “thinking about you...to help me...y’know!”

It clicked, and Dirk’s eyebrows raised nearly an inch. “ _Ohhh_ , you mean ‘fantasizing.’”

“I was basically trying to avoid that word. But yeah.”

“Well, like...what, exactly? Just...my amazing good looks, or?” If Todd could meet Dirk’s eyes, he would’ve caught a cheeky wink, but he was far too busy dying inside.

“Oh my God,” whispered Todd, crossing his arms in front of his face so that his voice grew even more muffled. “Um, for example, talking dirty. Blowing me. Not at the same time, obviously.”

“Oh!” Dirk thought about it, blushed, and thought about it some more. “I could do that for you if you wanted,” he conceded, airily.

Todd’s brain momentarily ceased to function. He felt like the mattress had dropped out from under him. “N-no, Dirk, I mean...you’re like...” he gestured vaguely around at the unidentifiable aura of Dirk’s sexuality, “and I can’t just take advantage of you wanting to be a good friend or whatever, it’s not...I can’t do that.”

“I like making you happy, though; it’s not a problem.”

Todd frowned. Clearly he was getting nowhere. “Dirk, are you inter- I mean, have you ever thought about it?”

“About sex? About us?”

“...Both?”

“Well, sure. Loads of people have, apparently. When we talk to clients, and they do that thing where they look at us and try to figure it out, and they call you my partner even when I’ve made a point of introducing you as my, my, er--”

“It’s ‘esteemed colleague’ these days, I’m pretty sure.”

“Thank you, Todd, yes, my esteemed colleague. You’ve moved so quickly through the ranks, it’s hard to keep track,” he said, not without a hint of pride, as if he could take any credit for Todd’s inexplicable tendency to chase after him.

“What’s your point, Dirk?”

“Oh, only that, yes, I have thought about it. I’ve never had this sort of, relationship, _thing_ , with anyone before. I’ve done - I mean, I’ve done stuff, some...stuff. Not _all_ the stuff, of course, that would be absurd!”

“Thanks, that clarifies things.”

Dirk sighed. “It’s not that It’s just this little, practically inconsequential thing of infinitesimally small importance,” he fidgeted, “which I do nevertheless have to share with you in advance of our mutual consideration of further--”

“Stop. What are you actually saying?”

“I’m saying that you’ve just been brave, and told me something difficult, and it’s time I did the same thing.”

“No, Dirk, we’ve talked about this before. You’re allowed to keep things to yourself that you don’t want to share. I know it doesn’t help to talk about - about some things.” Todd looked unblinkingly into Dirk’s eyes, and Dirk began to find the contact unbearable. He turned away, onto his back, and stared at the cracked ceiling.

“It’s not like that. I understand that, you said - at the beginning, when I came back, you said friends don’t have to tell each other everything. Even when it hurts them not to know. There are infinite mysteries, endless unknowns, universes that I will never know about you, even though I’ve never been closer to another person before.”

Todd heard the thickness in Dirk’s voice, and reached for his hand under the covers.

“But, Todd, this, right here, is a universe I _want_ to share with you. It’s one we can discover on our terms, by our own choice, at our own pace.” Dirk squeezed his hand and smiled, though his eyes were shining. “Oh, this is silly,” he said, “it’s not like I’m embarrassed to tell you. Not since you told me your secret, anyway. _Blowjobs_ , honestly, Todd...”

Voice breaking, Todd interrupted, “Are you actually aware how much suspense you’re building up right now, or? Don’t let me rush you, but, jesus.”

“I love you, Todd.” Dirk couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice. “Also, I’m trans,” he said offhandedly.

“I hope to God that wasn’t your big secret, Dir-- wait, what?”

“As in, I’m a trans man, obviously.” He flashed a nervous grin. Todd didn’t seem to react, or know how to. “Do you...understand what I mean?”

Whatever Todd was expecting, it wasn’t that. But then again, was anything about Dirk Gently ever expected? After a few seconds of blankness, his mouth trying to form words, responses, questions, he just said, “Oh.”

“It would’ve felt wrong to put off telling you, I mean, I knew you liked - er, it’s difficult not to notice that you’re aroused when we kiss,” Dirk said, blushing faintly, “but I didn’t know if you really wanted me in that way, or if it was from being close, being affectionate...and I might have pushed you, or even teased you occasionally, and you didn’t ever push me, which is on the one hand considerate, and on the other very annoying, because then it falls to me to be brave, and tell you that I really want you, and I couldn’t if you didn’t know, and...well, essentially, what it boils down to is, I had to tell you now because I hate to think you’ve been fantasizing inaccurately about me.”

Todd laughed. “Y’know,” he got out between giggles, “I was surprised for like two seconds, but this is by far the most normal thing I’ve ever learned about you.”

“Ah, well, thanks very much, Todd,” replied Dirk with only a hint of sarcasm.

“But...were you ever gonna tell me if we weren’t in this sort of...” Todd shrugged, again ineffectively, in the general direction of the as-yet-unnamed quality of their relationship, “...thing?”

“Oh, well, er,” tried Dirk, looking uncomfortable, “probably...not?” He fidgeted with the corner of the blanket. “I didn’t think it mattered, and,” he looked worried, “I haven’t had to tell anyone for...like, ten years! Not since university, and that wasn’t - wasn’t anything like what I’d call an ideal situation.”

“No, Dirk, that’s - I’m not annoyed. That doesn’t bother me. And you know it’s not like - I mean, you’re the same. There are some things about you that are really hard to wrap my head around, but this...” He shrugged. After a moment, he asked, “So, what, are you going to like, say anything else about that, or am I supposed to know what that all, like...entails?”

Dirk tilted his head, confused. “I’m not sure if you’re asking about my, like, _history_ , or about my, hm, how should I put this?” he asked himself. “My…?”

“Uh,” said Todd, noncommittal. “Look, I don’t - I’m not asking about your background, you don’t have to tell me things like that if you don’t want to. You said that you _wanted_ me,” Todd said, wide-eyed, “so does that like, mean what I think it means?”

“What do you think it means?” asked Dirk, voice jumping an octave.

“ _Dirk_ , please, help me out, here!”

“Oh, alright. It’s - when I see you like that, I’m thinking, I’d do anything for you, anything to make you happy. Not because it’s a favor, or because I think it’ll get you to stay, and keep being my friend, but because _I want to_. That’s what it means.”

“Oh.” Todd, usually falling somewhere between exasperatedly concerned or concernedly exasperated in his expressions, had a look on his face that Dirk had only seen a handful of times before. He didn’t know how to describe it at all. The first time he saw it was in the woods, looking for the lost kitten, when Todd had first told him he was his friend. The second time was at the end of their first case, at the hospital, then just before Todd had hugged him so tightly at the facility, another time between saving Dirk’s life (again) and kissing him hard on the forehead in relief, once more when Dirk had solved their most recent case and had held Todd’s shoulders, bouncing with pride and energy and too much excitement to find the words to explain what he could see, what no one else could see.

Todd looked like he was solving a mystery of his own. The look changed, his eyebrows moved, and the confused lines between them resolved. “Dirk,” he smiled, openly, candidly, “I’ve just figured out that I’m really, really, _really_ in love with you.”

Dirk kissed his cheek, a bad attempt at hiding an elated grin. “This is why _I’m_ the detective, you utterly ridiculous man.”


End file.
